On Thursday, some colleagues and I volunteered for Habitat for Humanity, as part of our Employees in Action Week. I've done H4H before twice, but both times involved painting or nailing or something indoors. Which is why I totally wasn't expecting to be handed a shovel upon my arrival, and instructed to dig a ditch. And a trench.Considering that the last time I used a shovel, it involved a sand pail and a bikini (read: I was 5), it should come as no surprise that I was sore/in pain for 3 days afterwards. The 3 1/2 hour dance rehearsal on Saturday did NOT help.
Now I wish I'd paid more attention during O Brother, Where Art Thou?. I could have sang some of the chain gang songs...
My sexy protective glasses
Huddling on the "sidewalk" for pizza
Bob busts out the pick ax
Digging a ditch (not a trench)
The BEA Group Pic
*~*~*~*
On Sunday, Sara and I met over brunch at Town's End. For those of you who don't know, Sara is one of my very awesome WW buddies that I met online through ExP. We've been blogging and corresponding back and forth for months. Since she lives in Daly City, it made sense to finally meet up.
It was a wonderful, and relatively guilt-free brunch, although I did splurge on the carrot-potato cakes. I dropped her off at Stonestown, ran some errands, and then... DISASTER.
And Disaster, Thy Name is Mini.
I've decided that my little car is like one of those hot-but-asshole boyfriends. As I told Kim today, he's totally good for nothing, causes tons of emotional trauma, and is more effort than its worth. Yet you don't want to break up with him because he's do damn cute. And yes, my car is definitely male.
A mere month (?) after finally getting my car back, some fuse decides to short out in the middle of the pouring rain. The engine ran fine. But my wipers, power windows, power locks, a/c, defrosters, headlines and hazards ALL didn't work. Which made driving in the rain completely impossible, and I was on the highway!
I pulled over to the nearest parking lot I could find, and called Mini Roadside Assistance. Why, oh why, did I expect them to be emotionally available in a time of crisis? All they could say is, "I'm sorry, we can tow you to the dealer, but we'll have to charge you b/c its out of warranty" despite the fact that its clearly a manufacturing problem. I refused to pay for it; I hardly wanted it in the hands of the outrageously overpriced dealership anyway. So they kept suggesting that I call 911 and the police.
So I did. And after being put on hold for TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES, the 911 dispatcher informs me that its not an emergency and hangs up on me. Ok, rude - but I understand that the line needs to be kept open for real emergencies. But why was I directed there? And what if I was in a house with a murderer and only have 24.5 minutes until he found me and killed me?? Good to know that we're safe in times of danger thanks to automation.
To make a long and frustrating story short(er), after I calmed down somewhat, I called AAA, signed up, and had them come and tow me. Luckily, about 10 minutes later, it stopped raining so I was able to cancel the tow truck and drive it home without incident.
Fernando headed over shortly afterwards - I had called him during my hysteria, only to find him drunk from Bay to Breakers. He was supposed to come and get me right away, but he ended up going home and passing out for an hour! To make matters worse, he brought over chicken mcnuggets (clearly I succumbed to emotional eating), but without the fries! I didn't even realize it was legal to buy nuggets without fries at McDonald's!
We ended up zoning out in front of the tv, finally watching Serenity, and then the Desperate Housewives finale. Oh well, I'm using this as good motivation to deal with the remaining repairs for my car once and for all.
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